Issued to the Bride One Sniper (Brides of Chance Creek Book 3)

by Cora Seton

  Hunter backed right out of her arms. They stood still in the middle of the swirling crowd, until Jo approached him again. Reluctantly, he took her hand, placed another at her waist and started dancing again.

  “How’d you do that?”

  She shrugged.

  “If you haven’t told anyone else, why tell me?”

  She looked thoughtful a moment. “You can keep a secret, can’t you?”

  He nodded. He supposed he could. Without thinking, he tugged her closer.

  With a sigh, Jo leaned her head against his shoulder.

  Every nerve in his body came alert. It had been too long since he’d held a woman. Suddenly he couldn’t hold a thought in his head.

  “Down, boy,” Jo said.

  “Jesus.” Hunter pulled back. “That’s not fair.”

  Jo laughed, a bright, cheerful sound he immediately wanted to hear again. “Don’t worry; I’m taking it as a compliment.” But she kept a distance between them.

  This was going to be even more difficult than he’d thought.

  Hunter was really something, Jo admitted to herself. She was more aware of his nearness than she should be. The pressure of his hand at her hip, the way he guided her around the floor and the width of his shoulders under her fingers all tugged at her senses. His crisp shirt had tickled her cheek when she’d rested her head against his chest, and the faint, clean scent of his aftershave made her want to breathe him in.

  Jo searched for something innocuous to say to bring them back to solid ground. He was right; it wasn’t fair that she could read the desire in him, but it was a heady sensation to know a man like him could be aroused by someone like her. It made her want to give him a chance. After all, she was perfectly safe at the moment. This was her house, her friends, and she was the one who could sense his feelings. Besides, she’d send him packing soon. Right after he’d built her a house.

  “What do you think of Chance Creek? Have you been here before?” she asked.

  “No. Never been to Montana. I’m from Alabama.”

  “That explains the accent.”

  He nodded. “I’m actually toning it down.”

  “Are you?” She realized she was smiling, and that gave her a turn. She was enjoying herself far too much. Wasn’t he supposed to be the enemy? Hadn’t she just sworn she’d never fall for another man?

  Somehow she was having a hard time remembering her promise.

  “You bet.” He swayed with her. “You have a lot of sisters.”

  She laughed. “I’ve noticed, believe me.”

  “Must be kind of nice having a close family, though.”

  “I guess so.”

  Hunter pulled back. “You guess so? That doesn’t sound like a ringing endorsement.”

  “I’m the youngest,” she explained. “That means I have four sisters who think they can boss me around. And now two of them have husbands. Brian and Connor are nice enough, but what do you bet they start acting all ‘father-knows-best,’ too.”

  “I don’t think they will.”

  “I do. That’s why I need my own place.”

  “Understandable.”

  She tilted her head up. “Why are you really here?”

  She thought he’d feed her a line, but he surprised her again. “I need a clean slate,” he admitted. “Had some trouble in my last assignment. Your father’s given me a chance to show him I can do something right.”

  Jo digested this. “So you’ll build me a house?”

  “A trial house.”

  “With running water, a full kitchen and a bathroom. And a washer and dryer.” If she had to run in and out of Two Willows, she might as well stay in her current room.

  “With all of those things,” he assured her smoothly, although she swore he’d hesitated about that last bit. “What do you say? Will you let me stay long enough to do that?”

  Jo surveyed him. This felt like a trap, but if she kept her head, she could get a place of her own and still get rid of him when he was done.

  Suddenly, a blur of black and white fur bounded through the swaying couples and jumped up eagerly to put his paws on her long dress.

  “Max! Sorry, he’s still learning how to behave,” Jo told Hunter when the puppy leaped up on him next.

  Instead of backing off and fussing about paw prints on his good jeans, Hunter crouched right down and let Max sniff him, laughing when the McNab licked his face. “He’s friendly.”

  “He is. He’s Connor’s dog; he’s supposed to stay indoors in one of the bedrooms during the wedding.”

  “You don’t want to stay indoors, do you?” Hunter asked the puppy. “You want to have some fun like everyone else.”

  He stood up when Connor came to fetch the happy puppy away. “Sorry about that, Jo.”

  “No worries.” She bent down to give Max a quick cuddle. “It’s all right, boy. I’ll come play with you later.”

  “Look at his tail,” Hunter said.

  She had to smile. Max’s tail was wagging a mile a minute, as if he hoped the display of excitement would change his owner’s mind about shutting him back inside.

  “That’s a good dog,” Hunter said.

  Jo’s heart warmed. She couldn’t help it; she was a sucker for people who liked dogs.

  “Okay,” she said, wondering if she was making a big mistake. “You can stay.”

  Dogs. The way to Jo’s heart was through dogs. Or maybe all animals. Hunter wasn’t sure. He was sure that he wanted to find the way to her heart, though. In the short time he’d known her, she’d surprised him more than most women did in months. Her open smile was a revelation. The way she lavished love and attention on Max made him want to be the recipient of similar overtures from her.

  Happy. She was happy. And he ached to feel that way, too.

  Hunter realized for the first time how unremittingly grim his life had been for months now. Worrying about Marlon. Worrying about his own future. Wishing he could tell everyone he hadn’t let them down—

  But knowing if he did he’d let down the friend who’d once saved his life.

  He’d been too long in an untenable position, but now things were looking up, because he was attracted to the woman he was supposed to marry.

  That had to be good, right?

  He was a long way from knowing if they were compatible, though. Or if his attraction could turn to something more—or if she was at all attracted to him.

  He caught her looking at him from under her lashes. Yeah, she was attracted to him. At least a little.

  He was glad he’d taken the time to clean up a bit before he’d arrived for the wedding. He felt good in his skin, and those surreptitious glances she kept sending his way assured him his confidence was working on her. In truth, he’d worried that she’d take one look at him and slam the door in his face when he washed up on her front stoop. There was that age difference, for one thing.

  Dancing with her now, he didn’t feel that difference as acutely as he’d feared he might. He was simply a man, and she was a woman, and God knew exactly what he’d been doing when he invented slow dancing. Jo fit in his arms so comfortably they might have been partners for years. He wondered if that would ever be the case. Would they look back together on this night years in the future and think about their first dance together? How would Jo remember it?

  Would they tell the story to their grandkids?

  If they did, he wanted that story to be good.

  “Jo Reed.” He bent down to move his lips close to her ear. “I intend to get to know you real well.”

  Jo stiffened, just for a moment. Then she tilted her head back and laughed. “In the Biblical sense, no less!” she exclaimed.

  Hunter dropped his hands and stepped back so fast he nearly trod on another couple. He’d forgotten she could read him like that, and she was right—he’d been thinking about…

  Hunter stepped forward, tugged her into his arms again and swirled her away. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “And you’
re brazen. You don’t even know me.”

  “Oh, yeah? I know something.” Time to give her a dose of her own medicine. “You were thinking biblically yourself just a minute ago.”

  The flash of shock that crossed her features gave her away, and the bright red flush that followed confirmed his wild guess. She tried to pull out of his arms, but he tightened his hold on her.

  “Settle down. So we’re both human, so what? It doesn’t mean either one of us is going to jump the other one. Right?”

  He thought she might lose her cool, but instead Jo laughed again. “Right. You’re safe from me.”

  “I don’t think so.” Hunter ducked, and Jo’s fist bounced off his ear, but her jab hadn’t been serious.

  He liked this—goofing around with Jo. Having fun—for once.

  “The question is, am I safe from you?” she retorted, but she was smiling.

  “The answer is no. Not in the slightest.”

  And he kissed her.

  Her lips were still tingling from that kiss when Jo met up with Cass in the kitchen several hours later. Sadie and Connor had left for their honeymoon to India. They’d spend a night in Billings and fly out first thing in the morning. Their guests had drifted away until it was only family left.

  And Hunter.

  After dancing with him several more times, Jo’s nerves were tuned far too tightly to let her rest—even if he hadn’t kissed her again. Once was enough. It was a nice kiss. A thorough kiss. One that promised far more to come if she was interested.

  And she was interested, she admitted to herself.

  But she’d have to think about that later, because they’d said good night after she’d shown him up to the guest room, and then she’d come back down to clean up, knowing she wouldn’t sleep for hours.

  Unfortunately, cleaning up meant facing Cass.

  And Cass didn’t look at all happy.

  Jo knew the set of her sister’s shoulders too well to doubt what Cass was feeling. She headed toward the back door, thinking to go outside and fetch in more of the dishes from the buffet dinner.

  “Has it really been that bad?”

  Cass’s question stopped her short. Jo knew exactly what she meant. “Of course not—I appreciate everything you’ve done since Mom died,” she began.

  Cass cut her off. “But you want out. You want your own place.” The quaver in her sister’s voice nearly undid Jo.

  “I just need some space.”

  “Why? Because I’m too overbearing? Because you think I’m a bitch?”

  “Cass!” That wasn’t it at all, except sometimes… sometimes Cass did interfere far too much.

  “I know it’s true. You hate me for trying to parent you, but who else was there to do it? Do you think it was fun for me all those years? Watching out for everyone? Trying to keep this place together? Trying to be Mom?” She laid a hand on her flat stomach, and Jo knew she had to be thinking of her unborn child. Was she worried about being a real parent?

  They’d all disliked the women the General had sent as surrogate mothers to watch over them, and they’d united in their efforts to run them off the ranch. That had left Cass to take up the slack. Which maybe hadn’t been fair.

  “I don’t hate you. Not at all, but I don’t need a mom anymore—”

  Cass wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and stalked out of the room without another word.

  Jo didn’t follow.

  She knew she’d hurt her sister, but she was twenty-one and it was far past time for her to stand on her own two feet, no matter what Cass thought. That didn’t have to diminish what Cass had done in the past. Or what she’d do in the future. Cass was about to be a mother in her own right; that’s what she should focus on.

  Jo sighed and was about to head outside when her sister stalked back into the room.

  “Here’s the thing; you do need a mom. You need people around you. You’ve been through too much to be living on your own. You can’t go through two attacks and a… a…”

  “Killing,” Jo supplied.

  Cass went pale. “Jo, that’s not what happened—”

  “Yes, it is,” Jo said matter-of-factly. “I killed a man. A man who was trying to kill you. I don’t feel bad for that.”

  “Yes, you do!”

  Jo stared at her. This was the problem in a nutshell. Cass felt so close to her she genuinely couldn’t tell the difference between their feelings. It was Cass who felt bad about it—Cass who was traumatized. Not her.

  Not anymore.

  “You know what I mean,” Cass said, a little more quietly. “Yes, it was the right thing to do—that doesn’t mean it didn’t affect you.”

  “You’re right; it did affect me. It was terrifying. I was in shock afterward, and I needed to process it, which is why I went to the counselor.”

  “And why you’ll keep going,” Cass interjected.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m more at peace with it than you think,” Jo told her. “You can’t use what happened as an excuse to control me anymore.” It was a low blow, but she stood her ground.

  Cass’s expression crumpled. “Is that what you think? I try to control you?”

  “Don’t you?” Jo challenged her. They needed to clear the air. “I want my own place. And Hunter’s going to build it for me. If you don’t like that, too bad.” She swallowed, knowing she was about to go too far. Knowing she had to if she was ever going to stop being the baby of the family. “You aren’t my mother, Cass. So get out of my way.”

  When Hunter rose early the following morning, he found Jo in the kitchen, trying to sneak out without being heard. The white cat, Tabitha, was eating from her food dish in the corner. Jo raised a finger to her lips, and Hunter followed her out onto the back porch and shut the door behind him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to wake Cass. She’ll be up soon, anyway. We kind of had a fight last night.” Jo leaned against the porch railing. In jeans, a T-shirt and battered boots, she was dressed for work this morning. She wasn’t wearing makeup and she looked softer today. More real, somehow. The sun glinted on her auburn hair, picking out strands of gold in it. Hunter wanted to reach out and touch it, curl a lock around his finger and give it a playful tug, but she looked too serious for that to be appropriate.

  They hadn’t kissed again after the first time. He’d wanted to when they’d said good night, and he had a feeling she’d hoped he’d try, but he’d held back, wanting to do things right.

  “What about?”

  “The house. She can’t understand why I want to move out.” Jo surveyed the gardens, carefully not meeting his eye.

  “She’s having a hard time backing off, huh?” He’d seen that with the Franks as they’d grown up. The older ones never seemed to understand that the younger ones were adults, too.

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Give her time; she’ll come around.”

  “I don’t need to be bossed around anymore.”

  “You can’t prove to someone you deserve respect by running away, you know,” he countered, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Jo wasn’t some new recruit in the Navy. She was the woman he was supposed to marry someday.

  Jo’s expression hardened. “Fuck you.” She clattered down the steps and strode away from him in a flash, her ponytail swinging, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she was hearing his words echo in her mind and cursing him again—because now she was running from him.

  Hell.

  Not a good start.

  Hunter considered going after her, but the door opened behind him and Cass came out. She took in Jo’s receding shape and sighed. “She’s pissed at me.”

  “She’s pissed at me, too.”

  Cass handed him a glass of orange juice and crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s right, though; I do treat her like a baby. I just don’t know when she grew up. I swear to God she was fourteen the other day.”

  “You’re like a mother to her.” He took a sip
of the juice. Freshly squeezed. Nice.

  “Which isn’t fair to either of us, because I’m not Mom.” She rested a hand on her belly briefly. Caught herself and moved it, blushing a little. “Not her mom, anyway.”

  Hunter tried to consider his next words more carefully than he had his prior ones. “Maybe it’s time to back off and let her choose her own way, then.”

  Cass turned on him. “She’s been put in harm’s way twice in the last two months. She was nearly killed—we all were! So pardon me if I don’t want her living—and sleeping—in a house out there all by herself when for all we know someone else could come after us!”

  Hunter nodded. She was right; this wasn’t the best time for Jo to be living on her own.

  But she wouldn’t be. Not if he could help it.

  “No—don’t even say anything.” Cass held up a hand when he began to answer. “I don’t want to hear your plans. You just listen to me. You put Jo in danger, and I will make your life a living hell. I will skin you alive and roast you over hot coals. I’ll—”

  “I got it—I got it.” Hunter set the glass on the railing and backed away. “I’m not here to hurt Jo. I promise.” He made it down the steps and angled toward the barns.

  “Prove it,” she yelled after him.

  So Hunter thought she was a baby, too. Resentment burned Jo’s throat at the automatic way he’d fallen into advising her, just like everyone else on this ranch, as if she couldn’t reason things through for herself. Maybe she was the youngest. Maybe she’d made a few mistakes. That didn’t mean she wasn’t ready to lead her life her own way. How was she to learn if she didn’t try?

  Max padded into the barn on silent paws, and shadowed her as she moved through her morning chores, going through the equipment, taking stock, making repairs and keeping a list of things they might want to replace before winter. The dog was probably missing his owner already while Connor was on his honeymoon.

  She didn’t acknowledge Hunter when he joined her, too, but he stuck close, moving to help her after a bit when he’d figured out what she was up to. Together they got the work done more quickly, but Jo refused to even look at him, let alone say a word.

  She would have preferred to go riding, her favorite way to shake off a bad mood. They kept a stable of horses at Two Willows, and Bright Star, a roan mare, was her favorite. She loved to ride into the wilder areas of the ranch and pretend she was all alone—an old-fashioned explorer on the trail before the whole continent had been mapped and paved with roads. Too often people confounded her, but Bright Star never did. The mare could sense Jo’s moods as easily as Jo could sense hers. Together they moved through the landscape until Two Willows’s beauty worked its magic on them.